McPin YPAG (Young People’s Advisory Group) member and writer Lexie shares her thoughts on the government’s social media consultation ahead of the deadline for responses; including her experiences, the need for nuance, and why a blanket ban probably isn’t the solution.
Lexie Winfield
In much of the current discourse around the potential social media ban, children and young people are cast as totally passive victims of the digital world. This is echoed in the language used (“doomscrolling”, “brainrot” etc.), painting the picture of a 2D screen that children have no meaningful engagement with.
In part, there are elements of truth to this. Platform design does, ultimately, aim to pacify its users, and children are naturally more vulnerable to that. But the reality is (unsurprisingly!) far more complex.
For many young people today, social media isn’t just a tool for distraction, but is an entire world for creativity, community, identity-building, and access to support. In its very title, the government consultation “Growing up in an online world” acknowledges it as its own world, and yet the leading policy response to this is a blanket ban for under-16s.
I’ve been an active user of social media since I was nine years old (as both a consumer and creator), and so I am acutely aware of its “dark side”. But I worry that the current emphasis is too focussed on outright banning young people from these spaces, rather than questioning a) the value they bring, and b) the platform design that makes them so harmful in the first place.
When young people don’t have access to free public places, digital community doesn’t just replace “real” connection, but it actually becomes a valid third space in its own right.
A connection worth protecting
The collapse of third spaces for young people (such as youth clubs and community activities) has been so well-documented for years, and yet it still feels like nothing has changed. When young people don’t have access to free public places, digital community doesn’t just replace “real” connection, but it actually becomes a valid third space in its own right.
This is particularly accentuated for families who don’t have the resources for paid activities, like sports or after-school clubs. Whether through Snapchat or Roblox or TikTok, children are socialising with their friends through social media platforms, and this connection is worth protecting.
I also think that without having the true digital native experience that Gen Z and younger have had, older adults underappreciate the broader cultural access that social media offers.
Not only are kids using platforms to connect with friends, but they also have the chance to engage with fashion, literature, sport, history, and current affairs in a way that meets them exactly where they are.
This might seem scary if you haven’t lived it, but young kids across the UK having access to culture in this way makes their lives so much bigger and fuller. I know more about Formula 1 and Middle Eastern cuisine and London architecture than I could have ever hoped, and I truly see that as an exciting thing!
If we’re concerned that young people are accessing mental health-related content because there aren’t sufficient provisions, then the solution has to be reinvesting in the “real” infrastructure, not banning the alternatives that have had to emerge.
Social media and mental health nuances
However, within this exploration and identity-building, there are niches which produce a murkier picture – with mental health content being one of these.
With over half a million children currently on mental health waitlists in England, I know first-hand that many of these young people will be using social media content to access an informal form of support – whether that’s through finding role models to identify with, or just having a comment section forum to discuss wellbeing tips in.
I’m not here to say whether this is all “good” or “bad” (spoiler – it’s obviously more nuanced than that), but it’s important to say that this content doesn’t always come from the right place, and therefore needs to be regulated.
Even more simply, if we’re concerned that young people are accessing mental health-related content because there aren’t sufficient provisions, then the solution has to be reinvesting in the “real” infrastructure, not banning the alternatives that have had to emerge.
I started blogging at nine years old – it was my own little corner of the internet where I could share reviews and opinions with other kids, and I built my own community up in the years that followed.
In my early blogging years, I did admittedly care about the views and comments, but I never found myself tweaking my content to try and affect this. It wasn’t until traditional long-form blogging gave way to the widespread “social media influencer” in the mid-late 2010s that I eventually stopped.
Although I couldn’t articulate it at the time, I was always far more interested in writing about my views or opinions than myself. But this wasn’t before I had my own try at “influencing” on Instagram.
During the Covid lockdowns, it felt like so many of the microinfluencers I was in circles with started to open up about their own mental health experiences. I wanted to join in – I did genuinely believe it might help some of my followers, but I guess it was also trendy and somewhere in that mix my intentions got muddled.
What I shared was deeply true and personal and real to me, but I think I cared more about whether it was going to hit the right marks than whether it was responsible and considered (especially for a younger audience).
The truth is that vulnerability sells. This affects the mental health content being produced (and the extent to which it is shocking or sensationalised), but is also indicative of the content landscape more generally. The algorithms behind our social media platforms – especially TikTok – are designed to keep us engaged.
This isn’t inherently a bad thing, but the problem arises when we think about what “engagement” really means in this context. Yes, it refers to engagement with this vibrant (and valid) cultural world I’ve already outlined, but there’s also no distinction between this and engagement with addictive, untrue, polarising, or harmful content.
Through the lens of the platform, both keep the young person on the app, and so ultimately do their job. It’s true that the overtly illegal content is being cracked down on, but the platform architecture that does a lot of the damage is still not appropriately regulated.
A blanket ban would remove access to the peer communities and third spaces that social media does genuinely provide, while doing very little to target the underlying issues.
‘It’s hard to see how a ban would work’
In the consultation, the government are considering a range of measures to address these issues, with the ban prohibiting social media use for under-16s being the headline policy.
A blanket ban would remove access to the peer communities and third spaces that social media does genuinely provide, while doing very little to target the underlying issues. It would not rebuild our youth clubs or get more young people in front of CAMHS or democratise cultural participation and, in practice, it’s hard to see how it would work.
It didn’t stop me at nine, so I definitely don’t see it stopping a determined 15-year-old – even if the government is proposing adding identification checks.
I filled out the consultation survey for 10-21 year olds – it was important for me to share my opinion, but also to understand in more detail what the government are considering.
Aside from the ban, the consultation’s other proposals are considerably more promising than a ban. The restrictions on addictive design features (autoplay, infinite scroll, hyper-personalised feeds) target the system itself, rather than locking the user out.
For what it’s worth, the survey didn’t make any concerted effort to speak to me as a 21-year-old. Even after inputting my age, I was surprised how many questions were geared around my current school experience, with no questions around university or work.
It’s a small point, but it’s another quiet reminder of how young people are so often left out of these rooms.
The consultation’s proposals on addictive design features are both more realistic, and more honest about where the problem actually lies.
The need for a ‘considered policy response’
Having grown up in the online world that the government are examining, I am confident that for most teenagers, the cultural access complements their lives. But fullness can’t be mistaken for fulfilment, and so the same platforms that make young people’s lives bigger are also designed, at their core, to exploit attention.
That tension requires a considered policy response, and the consultation’s proposals on addictive design features are both more realistic, and more honest about where the problem actually lies.
The question isn’t whether or not social media has a dark side – we all know it does. It’s about recognising all of the positives worth fighting for, and how we can still protect our young people simultaneously.
Lexie Winfield is a freelance writer, with over a decade of experience advising global organisations on Gen Z culture. She is a member of two McPin YPAGs, and is passionate about ensuring young people’s voices and lived experiences are at the heart of mental health research.
